How can I not fall into pieces and offer my soul and heart on a silver tray when you always give a dollar to a penny that I don’t deserve? How can I not fall into those eyes in which I see the reflection of the beauty of the universe? How can I not fall, when you never cease to give and give, despite how unworthy I am of you? They say I am one at fault for this love that I keep, and I can’t ever agree to that.

Because the truth is, I blame you. You are the one to blame for this love I harbor deep for you.

So let me keep this feeling. Let me be close. Don’t pretend you don’t want what we have, don’t look at other person with such adoration that shows just the same during our secret moments, don’t pretend you’re not just as smitten, don’t pretend I am the same as any other person.

Because as improper as it was, I wanted you enough to approach you in the first place.

You, who are too unreachable, who makes me see the difference of our holy ground. You, who laughs like the ringing bell in the spring but stares like the frozen, cold snow. Tell me, how did this tale began? Ah, I remember. You were there, above the clouds like where your throne belonged. I longed for you, heard of your name, reached out to your throne, and was failed to enter. That was when you noticed my existence. You saw something in me, believed that there was a second chance for me, and spoke words of encouragement with that strong, clear voice of yours.

I remember you, lining in the front row in your prestigious green armor. You spoke with confidence then, as you do now, though in a different armor. I remember how you made legs wobble and stomach tighten. Nobody dared to reach into your doors, and then I did. I entered the door that you left open, and I wondered if maybe you wanted me to reach in for whatever reason.

So am I in the wrong place now, inside your chamber? Tell me, do I have the chance to reach into your heart to make you mine? Do I get to ever stand not behind, not far, far behind but instead right there, next to you? Or perhaps, will I ever be able to blow the horn that you have blown all on your own all these past years?

You left me a trail, a path. A path that I can take should I choose to reach your throne. You left me the choice, and I made the easy decision to step forward and march right into the rough path of glory-seeking. Perhaps this way I will understand your pain, what you went through, and what tears you have spilled.

Then perhaps one day, I can be worthy, of standing right next to you.